


unfulfilled? incomplete?

by staticbees



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Pre-Strex Kevin, technically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 14:44:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14771640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staticbees/pseuds/staticbees
Summary: Snippets of radio broadcasts from a universe where Desert Bluffs is never assimilated into Strexcorp.





	1. Desert Bluffs, Year #0

“Trust your gut. Listen to your heart. Obey your liver.

 

Welcome to Desert Bluffs.”

 

Kevin flicks a switch and the intro music begins to play, cheery ukulele filling his headphones. As it fades away, he leans forward in his chair towards his microphone.

 

“I haven't done a broadcast in a _long time,_ so I'll start by stating the obvious. We won, Desert Bluffs.” Kevin’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but his voice is bright and hopeful. “We drove Strexcorp out.”

 

He hesitates. “But it doesn’t come without a price. Many of us are still recovering from the damage done by Strex, and I myself have not gotten out without a few scars.

 

George Piers - you know, the baker - passed away the other day. Reports say he died as he lived, defending his baked goods. He perished from wounds sustained while fighting off StrexCorp guards, who were attempting to _forcefully_ confiscate his wheat and wheat by-products.

 

“This was allegedly due to their belief that those foods are _extremely_ dangerous, liable to turn into a highly venomous snake or malevolent spirit at a moment's notice, despite the fact that they are Desert Bluffs approved products. Personally, I think they just wanted a bite to eat. After all, attempting to take over a _peaceful desert town_ like ours sure does take up a _lot of energy_.” Kevin pauses, scowling.

 

“You know, if I was a higher-up in StrexCorp, which I'm not, and don't ever want to be-” He shudders slightly, disgusted at the very idea. “If I were part of Strex, I would make _sure_ they recognize wheat and its by-products for how delicious and beneficial they really are. I would- oh.”

 

“Listeners, Intern Vanessa just handed me a message from the Constable’s Hidden Officers. At least, I’m pretty sure it’s from them. It has a scrawling signature at the bottom that I can’t quite make out, and half of it is burnt and curling up at the corners, like someone dipped it in fire, which seems a _little_ excessive, but heat _is_ a proven way to get rid of any poisonous spiders living in the paper, so I guess I can’t really blame them. It’s also splattered with what looks like dried blood. That part’s still pretty sticky, so maybe they didn’t let it bake long enough. Or maybe it’s just kool-aid. Anyway.” He clears his throat.

 

“It reads: ‘Please stop trying to make small talk with our agents while they watch your house. Just because you spotted us in your backyard with an earpiece and a camera doesn’t mean you have permission to speak to us. Although it is done with good intentions, it is very disrupting, and several agents have lost their jobs because of you. And you know what happens to agents who lose their jobs.’ _So_ , to whoever is trying to talk to Hidden Officers while they’re working, please _stop_.

 

We’ll get back to the news about how the Bluffs have been recovering from Strex’s attempted takeover of our town in a bit, but before that, a word from our sponsor.

 

Do you just _love_ furniture? Does it consume you? Do you have stacks of chairs and mazes of tables piled up in your house? Is the floor no longer visible under rugs and cushions? Are instruction manuals glued onto the unpainted plaster walls of your house until they take up every inch of space? Do the merits of oak wood over pine consume your life? Does the chair you bought the other day talk to you while you sleep? Is the 5’ 2” ladderback birch bookcase in the corner of your bedroom your most prized possession? Has your wife of ten years finally left you? Have your friends stopped calling? Do you watch T.V all day on your brand new, $48 couch? Is your rent five weeks late? Are you broke? Are you unable to stop buying furniture? Can you just not stop spending money on new coffee tables and cherry-wood shelves? Do you keep buying? Do you keep buying? Do. You. Keep. Buying?

 

Ikea.

 

Feed your addiction.

 


	2. Night Vale, Year #3

I don’t see Kevin much these days, listeners.

 

He came to Night Vale the other day, from Desert Bluffs. Our sister town is only a few hours away, and he hadn’t visited in a few months, so he wanted to drop by, I guess. I had just gotten back to my radio station to lock up for the night, and I found Kevin standing there, in the center of the room, looking considerably more happy then when I had last seen him. 

 

His dark hair was tousled, skin bronzed from the desert sun. His three eyes glowed an unearthly white, and he had pale scars that crisscrossed his face and arms. Some of his fingers were crooked, as if they had been broken and crudely splinted back together. 

 

“Cecil?” he asked, sounding relieved. “Is that you?”

 

I frowned. “We’re off air, Kevin,” I told him. “Carlos is expecting me to be home soon.”

 

“Oh.” He looked vaguely disappointed. 

 

“We can still talk, though,” I assured him, gathering up the papers from my last broadcast. He  _ had  _ driven a long way here, I reasoned, and he was most likely going to have to have an intern take over tomorrow’s radio broadcast, something he absolutely  _ hated  _ doing. 

 

He glanced around the dark studio, critically surveying the decor. “You should really make it brighter in here. Cheerier. It just feels so  _ doom and gloom,  _ you know?” he remarked, gesturing towards the City Council mandated pictures of lighthouses on the wall, which the Secret Police  _ regularly  _ use to scan my broadcasts for thought crimes and illegal topics.

 

I rolled my eyes. “You're not exactly one to talk,” I replied flatly. “Your radio station is covered in cat positivity posters.” The last time I’d visited, they’d stared at me the whole time I was there, watching my every move with adorable wide eyes and an unbreaking gaze. 

 

“They help promote a happy and optimistic work environment,” Kevin protested. “Desert Bluffs citizens get  _ much  _ more done when presented with positive feedback and encouragement!”

 

I raised an eyebrow. “Whatever you say.”

 

Kevin frowned, but didn’t say anything. I assumed it was because he didn’t want to yell over the sunset. It had been loud that night, interrupting my broadcast at  _ least _ twice. 

 

Lately, it has been  _ especially _ clamorous and annoying, begging desperately for our attention as the sun sinks below the horizon. Carlos thinks it’s just an aftereffect of Radon Canyon’s radiation, but I told  _ him _ that  _ I’ve _ been here since before Radon Canyon even existed, and the sunrises and sunsets are just as raucous and noisy as they always have been. He just shrugged, turning up the volume on the radio to drown out the shrieking sky.

 

“How has Desert Bluffs been?” I inquired. 

 

He grinned, eyes lighting up at the mention of his town. “Oh, it’s been  _ wonderful _ . There  _ have _ been a few nasty sandstorms, but nothing was destroyed and only a few loyal citizens were injured. Those weren’t from the sandstorms, though,” he clarified. “Grandma Josephine’s new theatre has been getting a lot of business, even though there aren’t any  _ actual _ plays shown there, just some weird music she calls ‘opera.’ Either way, I’m happy for her! Her and her nephilim have been advocating for a new and improved Young Desert Bluffs Theater for months now, and she’s finally raised enough money to build it.”

 

“Oh, well, that’s nice,” I replied politely. I was happy for her too, of course, but my loyalties will  _ always _ lie with Old Woman Josie, and the beautiful Old Night Vale Opera House. 

 

We talked for a few more minutes, before I told him that I had to go. He left the studio to go find his car, which had been towed and possibly destroyed by the Sheriff’s Secret Police due to having an unregulated license plate, and I headed home to have dinner with Carlos.

 

Speaking of dinner, Big Rico’s Pizza has announced a new store opening within the next month. This new location is also called Big Rico’s Pizza, and will be located in the building that is currently Big Rico’s Pizza. This new store promises all sorts of new products, so be sure to give them a try. As with the old establishment, giving them a try is 100% mandatory.


End file.
